Spirit that hears each one of us,
hears all that is --
Listens, listens, hears us out --
inspire us now!
Our own pulse beats in every
stranger's throat.
And also within the flowered ground
beneath our feet.
We can hear it in water, in wood, and
even in stone.
We are earth of this earth, and
we are bone of this bone.
This is a prayer I sing, for we
have forgotten this and so
the earth is perishing.
In the life of the Indian there was only one inevitable duty -- the duty of prayer -- the daily recognition of the Unseen and Eternal. Daily devotions were more necessary than daily food... Each soul must meet the morning sun, the new sweet earth and the Great Silence alone!